


God Help The Sinner

by citrusfriend



Series: Everyone's Arospec [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Aromantic Tendou, Depression, Gen, Internalized Aphobia, Intrusive Thoughts, Panic Attack, Self-Harm, Suicidal Ideation, Suicidal Thoughts, im so sorry satori, no comfort, self-hate, this is entirely just me writing my panic attack from satori's pov, this is just me projecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 11:31:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14056050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/citrusfriend/pseuds/citrusfriend
Summary: Satori wanted to scream, wanted to yell at his own head until his throat bled and he couldn't think any of this anymore, but when he tried to speak, his organs tried to run away from the chaos and he was retching again. But saliva and choked gagging were the only things to escape his lips, so he kept thinking.





	God Help The Sinner

**Author's Note:**

> TAKE THE TAGS SERIOUSLY! This is entirely just me projecting and Satori suffering. I'm sorry, baby.
> 
> (also this is based on my own aphobia, i am not trying to say that aro people are heartless! There's nothing wrong with being aro, this is just a look at internalized aphobia)

    The overbearing quiet of the dorm was broken by the flap of the book pages as it sailed across the room and slammed into the closet door with a muted _thud._ It crumbled to the floor in a tangle of paper and there was a second of silence.

    And then the silence evaporated.

    “Please, shut up, go away, shut _up…!”_

    Satori fell sideways onto his bed, his shoulder aching at the impact, but he paid it no mind. His long fingers tangled into his messy hair and Satori felt like throwing up. He could feel the oil from his unwashed hair on his hands and he _hated it_ , but he just pulled harder until he wondered of he could detach his skin from his skull.

 _“Leave me alone!_ I don't want your goddamn romance, please, just _leave…”_ He didn't know if any of his words were decipherable or just the keening, slurred jumble of words that he heard and that bothered him.

_You can't even speak right._

    His body jerked into itself, legs curling into his chest like he wanted a barrier between him and his own thoughts. His fingers migrated from his hair to his wrists and the thoughts kept coming.

_You can't even love anyone, what a psychopath. They were right; you can't feel things properly. You're hardly even human, why can't you just fall in love?_

    “I want to die,” he croaked. His voice didn't sound right. There was blood under his nails. He couldn't breathe.

    “Why are you doing this to me?” He didn't know if the words made it passed his lips, but if there really was a god, they wouldn't have to. “God, I don't want this, just _kill me already!”_ The words definitely were audible now and they cut at his throat.

_Unlovable. Psychopath. Pervert. Creep. Worthless. Useless. Unwanted. Alone. Pathetic. Self-pitying. Waste of potential. Ungrateful. Overdramatic. Can't feel anything. Disgusting. Depressing. Slut. Whore. No future. Narcissistic. Selfish. Worthless. Unnecessary._

    Suddenly, his whole body convulsed as he retched, his cheek pressing hard against his sheets. His insides felt like they were trying to force themselves _out of him_ \--and then he stopped retching and he returning to his quick, unsteady breaths.

_You deserve to die._

    Satori wanted to scream, wanted to yell at his own head until his throat _bled_ and he couldn't _think_ any of this anymore, but when he tried to speak, his organs tried to run away from the chaos and he was retching again. But saliva and choked gagging were the only things to escape his lips, so he kept thinking.

_Weak. Coward. Out of control. Alone. Easy to abandon. Can't fall in love. Doesn't deserve to live. Stop eating. Stop talking. Stop living._

    He couldn't even scratch at his arms anymore as he laid there and _sobbed,_ at the mercy of his own brain.

_If you want this to stop so bad, just make it. These are all your thoughts. You just want to feel like shit. You want to hate yourself, you attention-whore._

    “Stop,” he whispered, body slumping onto the sheets.

_You want to make yourself feel bad because maybe you'll be able to kill yourself this time. You want this._

    Satori closed his eyes. His head kept screaming. He stopped fighting. His head would be quiet in an hour or two, he knew. It always was.

_You asked for this._

    He just cried harder. “Help me.”

_You don't deserve it._

**Author's Note:**

> ...well, wasn't that cheerful?


End file.
